Take One at Mulholland High
by dutchesscourtney
Summary: COMPLETE! When Ali Harvist and her family move into the home of reality 'it' girl, Chloe Winterhaven, their lives will never be the same. Not marching band, but plenty of drama, angst, humor and romance that you would expect from the author and
1. Ali

**AN: **Wait a minute, it's by dutchesscourtney and 'Line' is nowhere in the title? I know, this is NOT a marching band story, but I'd like to think that I've developed something of an audience in this genre. All of your opinions mean a lot to me, and I would not be posting this story here if I didn't feel that you would all enjoy it. That being said, it doesn't have marching band elements. If this means you are not interested in reading, than I respect and understand.

However, if you are interested in reading...continue on!

My friend Susie and I are working on this together -- we'll be alternating chapters. She's written the first one and I think it's awesome! We're having a lot of fun with the characters and where things are going to go.

The concept of Mulholland Creek, manuscript, and all characters (like all my other stories) have been registered to WGAw. 

**Take One at Mulholland Creek**

**Chapter 1: Ali**

"Oh, no, she did NOT just do that!" Sarah screamed besides me, making me duck away and cover my ears, laughing.

"Are you kidding me?" Jen said, looking incredulously between me, Sarah and Steph and the television set in front of us all. On the screen, a deep orange sun sank into the Pacific Ocean, framing the incredibly sculpted, heartbroken silhouette of Blade Mathers, possibly the hottest 16-year-old guy on the face of the planet. We'd gotten together for our summertime Sunday night tradition: to watch the newest episode of the reality show "Mulholland Creek."

For the past three months we had watched, spellbound, as the series followed eight incredibly wealthy, incredibly lucky and incredibly _attractive_ high school students as they maneuvered their way through the social demands of teenage life in the exclusive oceanside community of Mulholland Creek, California.

In this episode, Blade Mathers had finally confessed his feelings for Chloe Winterhaven at a romantic picnic he'd set up on the beach. Chloe was by far the prettiest girl on the show, with flawless tan skin, long, toned legs, pale blue-grey eyes, and the kind of blond, sun streaked hair that was so highly desired by teenage girls across America that hair salons were now advertising "Chloe highlights" as if "Chloe" were an actual color.

We, of course, hated Chloe.

We hated her even more after tonight's episode. After Blade told her he loved her, she rolled her eyes, flipped her hair, and walked away – without saying a word!

"Can you believe she just rolled her eyes when Blade asked her out?" Jen yelled.

"Or how about the fact that she didn't even have the decency to say _anything_ to him before she _completely_ ditched him?" Sarah screamed again, jumping up from her seat and onto the couch to emphasize her words.

"You are _so_ pulling a Tom Cruise over this, Sarah," I said, catching Steph's eyes as we both burst out laughing. Sarah had a tendency to go a little wacko over things she felt strongly about. It was a good thing to do in drama club – not such a good thing in other circles. To Sarah's credit, she _was _in drama club, as were all the rest of us. Fortunately for Sarah, she'd finally found a guy who was similarly Tom Cruise-ish during acting camp this summer. She and Jack Barton were so perfect for each other in their over-enthusiasm for everything that just the night before Steph and I had practically died laughing at the thought of the two of them making out.

"I'm serious, though," Jen said, when we'd finally stopped laughing. "I mean, can you even imagine a guy as hot as Blade asking you out? I mean, I can't even imagine not wetting my pants if he smiled at me."

"Totally," Steph said, and we were all silent a moment – no doubt each of us lost in our own fantasies of Blade Mathers. It _was_ hard to imagine being able to keep it together in the presence of those mahogany eyes, long, thick eyelashes, and that tall, lean, completely Abercrombie-worthy body. Blade Mathers was the kind of guy you didn't just lust after during the 30-minute long weekly airings of Mulholland Creek, but the kind of guy you physically ached for when he entered your mind during the week. My own stomach flipped just thinking about him right then.

"Why can't _we_ live in Mulholland Creek?" I asked. In the other room, the telephone rang and we could hear Jen's mom answer it. "I'd show that Chloe what a girl should do when a guy like Blade asks you out."

"Yeah," everyone agreed.

Just then, Jen's mom walked into the room.

"Ali," she said, "that was your Dad on the phone. He asked that you come home right after the show ends. He said he's got some news to share with the family," Mrs. Johnson smiled at me. I raised my eyebrows and looked around at the others.

"I guess something more than dinner's cooking at the Harvist house tonight, girls," I said. I imagined it was another one of my Dad's updates on his attempt to sell the recipe for his famous salad dressings and sauces. My Dad is a chef at a breakfast and lunch place in town, and people go nuts over his honey-dijon and southwestern ranch dressings. Lately, Dad's been working on a business plan to start selling them in grocery stores, like Newman's Own or something. I have to admit, as farfetched as the idea of seeing my Dad's name on grocery store shelves seems, he really is a pretty good chef – you know, for being a total dork and all.

As I rode my bike back home through the neighborhood, I thought about all the fun we'd had his summer. Between Sarah nabbing her first boyfriend, Steph and I working the same part-time shifts at the Daily Scoop, and Jen's ongoing soap-opera-style lust for Ramon Sanchez, there had been no lack of excitement over the past few months. I think all of us were so relieved to have actually survived our freshmen year at Hoover High that we knew things could only get better. Our sophomore year would start in only two weeks, and I could hardly wait to see what Mrs. Simons had lined up for this year's drama club productions. Maybe I'd actually be able to score a leading role, now that the seniors had graduated. Maybe, I thought, I'd even get lucky enough to have a handsome leading man. Since I still hadn't officially had my first kiss ("officially" meaning something beyond the truth or dare game that landed Harold Wiedermeyer's fat lips on mine at the drama club overnight at the Y last May), I often entertained the thought of experiencing my first true love in a highly dramatic leading man falls for leading lady fashion.

As I played through the assorted first-kiss scenarios that always seemed to replay in my mind, my thoughts wandered back (how could they not?) to Blade Mathers. Not that I had any kind of whacked-out idea that Blade Mathers would actually take part in any of these first kiss scenarios, but a girl could dream, couldn't she? Blade was such the perfect guy: tall, dark, and handsome didn't even begin to describe his strengths. He was athletic, funny, and had this lopsided smile that showed off his one (yes one!) dimple in a way that made my blood rush and my face turn bright pink – and that was just from watching him on TV! If I blushed so hard watching him on TV, I'd probably turn into a complete lobster if I met him in person. Once again, I wondered what, exactly, was wrong with Chloe Winterhaven – beyond being a completely spoiled brat. As I came around the final bend onto my street I swung my left leg back over the bike seat and glided up the driveway in my signature stance, standing up on one pedal.

That was when I had my first clue that something was totally amiss at the Harvist house.

Not only were all the lights on the first floor blazing (which is weird in my house because my mom is a complete energy-saving freak – she makes us turn off every light when we leave a room and completely gets on our cases if we leave a light on in a room we're not currently in. She says it's to save money, but I think it's just my because my mom needs something to obsess over since she quit smoking two years ago), but also because there was an Anthony's Pizza (Middleton's best!) delivery car parked in the driveway and my Dad was actually paying him at the door! What you have to understand about my Dad to know how totally weird this was, is that my Dad is just as weird as my mom about turning off lights – only his weirdness is all about how we have to have a sit-down dinner together every night and we need to eat something he's cooked himself. Not that I have a problem with my Dad's cooking – like I said, he's a pretty good chef – it's just that he also insists that all of us – my older brother Steven, my mom and I all give detailed reports on our entire day. He also makes us each say one thing we're grateful for before we're allowed to leave the table. I'm telling you – my family is _weird._

So anyways, that's how I first knew something was completely off at my house that evening.

"Um, Dad?" I said as I skidded to a stop by him, "Are you, uh, feeing alright?" When he smiled at me, I realized I had actually been worried something bad had happened. Now, I was just curious.

"Ali-bally-bo-bally, I hope you've got your adventure hat on tonight! We're about to embark on a great one!" This is actually the way my Dad talks. No joke. It's not always this bad, but it's definitely worse when he's in a good mood.

"Um, okay," I said, "Are we really going to be allowed to eat Anthony's pizza tonight?" I was still a little bit in shock.

"Oh, I know sweetie," my Dad scowled down at the box in his hand. I couldn't help but notice that it smelled incredibly good, "It's not what we're used to, but I promise you it's worth it just for tonight," His lips spread back into a huge grin, "I have got some unbelievable news – and you, of all people, I know, will love it!"

I couldn't help but get a little caught up in my Dad's excitement as I followed him inside and he yelled to the rest of the house for my mom and brother to join us.

"Steven, Barb, come on into the kitchen! Ali's home! It's time to announce the good news!"

As I sat in one of the chairs my Dad had set out for us, I caught a glimpse of something even weirder in the dining room. Beyond the fact that no one was even in there and every single light was actually still on, there was a humongous stack of what looked like flattened cardboard boxes leaning against the far wall. Boxes? My mind leapt ahead. Were those for shipping out my Dad's sauces or something? I had a feeling I might already know what my Dad was going to announce. Somebody had finally offered to back his business plan.

So, being as sure as I was of what I was about to hear, I wasn't at all surprised when the first words my Dad said were, "Kids, your mother and I have something very important to tell you. Our lives are about to make a huge change for the better." I smiled up at my Dad. Despite the fact that I knew what he was taking so long to get at, I didn't want to ruin his big moment.

"Kids, a man came into my deli this week who could not get enough of my honey-dijon. He liked it so much he bought a case of it and shipped it to his friend Charlie in California. His friend was so impressed with it, he asked for my number and called me yesterday. After a lot of talking and hashing out details, he's offered me a chance to start up my business!"

"Yeah, Dad!" I yelled. I couldn't help it. Deep down, I'm just as dorky as my Dad.

"That's right, Ali-oop! And what's even better, he's offered me a way to have full ownership of the company in a few years through sweat equity."

"What's that mean?" Steven asked. He scowled up at Dad, peering through his thick glasses. As I looked over at Steven's acne-ridden face, I couldn't help but feel thankful once again that I, somehow, had managed _not_ to inherit the bad acne gene from my parents. Steven's an alright brother, despite the fact that he's a complete genius and makes me look like a dunce every time report cards come out, but he definitely got the short end of the stick when it comes to looks. Not that I'm any sort of babe – I'm pretty much as average as they come – but next to Steven, I don't have anything to complain about. I'll take my brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average weight, slightly-too-small chest and stick legs over his acne any day.

"Basically, what it means, Steven, is that I'll do a certain amount of work in return for ownership of the company, instead of getting paid for the work. In the meantime, it also means that Charlie will put up the money I need to get my business off the ground!"

"I don't get it, Dad," Steven said. "What's the catch?" Steven's like that. He always wonders what the trick is in things. He's definitely the person to take with you when you want to buy something expensive. My parents completely rely on Steven to do the negotiations when the family has to buy a car.

"The trick, Steven, is actually almost as good as the rest of the deal. My work in return for ownership of the company will be to serve as the personal chef to Charlie's family. In return for cooking all their meals and doing their weekly grocery shopping, I will not only become the owner of my new company, but we all will be moving into an amazing new house, in one of the prettiest towns in southern California, which, your mother has already researched and discovered has one of the top public high schools in the country!"

_What did he say? Did he just say something about MOVING?_ _No, he could not mean all of us moving – maybe just he's moving. That's got to be it – just my Dad, and the rest of us will stay here. There's no way my parents would make me move and go to a new high school!_

"Um, gee, Dad, we'll, uh, miss you," I said. My Dad looked at me like I had just spoken another language.

"Ali, that's just it, sweetie," my Dad knelt down in front of me and rubbed my hair. I was in such shock I didn't even remember to tell him to stop. It's totally annoying to have a Dad who messes up your already hopeless hair when you spend half the time you're in the bathroom trying to make it look not so hopeless.

"You see, "he went on, "the great thing about it is that I don't have to go alone – all of us – the whole family," with this, he stopped and smiled at my mom and brother before going on, "Will be moving to California together! We'll have a nice, rent-free place to stay on the grounds of Charlie's estate, which – he tells me – has a beautiful outdoor pool and a view of the ocean – and, what's more, Charlie even has a daughter about your age! And I know you'll love it because it's in that town you always talk about from that show you watch, Mulberry Creek!"

"_Mulholland _Creek, Dad," I could not believe he was acting so annoyingly happy about something that pretty much signified the end of my social life.

"Right, Mulholland Creek! That's it! Charlie told me his daughter has even been on the show before! I thought you'd be really happy about that, Ali. You should have a lot to talk about with his daughter." My Dad was looking so excited, I was actually starting to think he might be going crazy. He had to be kidding me if he thought I'd actually be happy leaving all of my friends behind just so I could become best buds with some girl who has been in the background of some M.C. episode.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I was suddenly starting to realize what my Dad was saying. That he was actually serious about all of us moving away, right in the middle of my high school years! I looked at my mom for some hint of sanity. She was looking at my Dad like he was some kind of hero, saving us all from the despairs of life in Middleton, Ohio.

"Are you guys serious?" I practically yelled. My mom and Dad jumped at my voice. "Are you really, seriously, actually thinking of moving? What if I don't want to move? What if I'm happy here in Middleton?" I was starting to go a little Tom Cruise myself here – I couldn't help it. This was the most terrible thing my parents had done to me yet! "What if I refuse to go?"

Even Steven was staring at me now. My mom's jaw hung open for a second, before she finally seemed to snap out of her disbelief at my reaction.

"Ali, honey, we've already made the plans. I called Mulholland High today, and they're expecting you in two weeks. This really is best for us in the long run, and I really think you'll like it there. They've got an amazing drama club!" She stepped forward and put her arm around my shoulder before continuing, "And, whether you like it or not, you're moving with us."

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I hardly had time to absorb the idea of moving, let alone start thinking about my new high school.

Meanwhile, Steven was taking this way better than I would've expected him to, especially considering it meant moving across the country for his senior year.

"You mean, I'll have a chance to establish California residency before applying to Cal Tech?" Steven asked. He said it the same way I might say, "You mean I get to eat every dessert I want for the rest of my life and never get fat?" Like I said, Steven's a nice guy, but we're definitely not at all alike.

My mind started replaying what my mother had said to me. _Mulholland High? _Wait a second. Did she say _Mulholland_ High? The high school Blade Mathers goes to?

"Um, mom, what did you say the school was called?" I asked.

"See honey, I knew you'd start to come around to the idea! It's called Mulholland High. I think it's the same school that's on that show you and our friends watch," my mom was practically beaming with relief. I have to admit, I was starting to see some possible benefits of this move after all. Namely, the possibility of having class with Blade Mathers! But really, this was too much to take in by myself. My fingers were practically itching to grab the phone and call Steph.

"Um, mom, Dad, can I call Steph and tell her the news?" I was trying to keep it together on the outside. On the inside, I was freaking out. Would I really be leaving all my friends behind? Was I actually going to Mulholland High?

Sure, sweetie, do what you need to," My mom cooed at me.

"You bet, Ali-oop," my Dad chimed in, "you do whatever you need. I know this is a lot to take in."

As I closed the door to my bedroom, phone in hand, I heard my Dad yelling up at me from downstairs.

"Oh, Ali, actually, one other thing," my Dad's voice floated up the stairwell. My fingers hovered over the first digits in Steph's phone number. "If Charlie, er, Mr. Winterhaven to you, I guess, calls on the other line, make sure to let me talk to him. I have a few more details I need to sort out tonight."

"Okay, Dad," I yelled back. I was practically bursting with the news and had to talk to Steph right away. As I dialed her number, it seemed like even pushing the numbers took too long. When I could finally hear the phone ringing on Steph's end, I relaxed.

And that's when what my Dad had just said hit me.

Mr. Winterhaven? As in, Chloe Winterhaven?

**_AN: We're dying to know what you think! Please review! Chapter 2 will be up shortly. _**


	2. Chloe

**What do you think so far? Isn't Susie an awesome writer? This chapter is mine, so I hope I can keep up.  
**

**AN: We own and we've registered.  
**

**Chapter 2: Chloe**

"That's a wrap on Chloe!" shouts the Director.

_Finally_, I come very close to saying, as someone from the audio department, a bubble gum popping blonde who is probably screwing the Associate Producer comes over and unhooks the small lavaliere mic from my Betsey Johnson halter dress. I cannot WAIT to get off of the set. When I signed up for this "show" months ago, I guess I really had no idea what I was getting into. I mean, I had some clue, I'm not some total airhead, but still…I only recently turned sixteen – it's not like I'm one of the Olsen twins or something.

The shoot today was maybe the lamest yet. Yeah, yeah, I know…how much of a princess do I sound like? Poor little rich girl gets to star on a national television show and all she wants to do is complain.

Well, you would too.

Because I'm an idiot and didn't have my agent really look into things like he's paid $500 an hour to do or whatever, I realized that no matter what I did or how I acted that I was completely locked into the ENTIRE season, all sixteen episodes, of Mulholland Creek. Two months ago, all I wanted to do was start my career in the film industry. This show was a way of getting national exposure. Now, I want nothing more than my fifteen minutes to be over.

In all honesty, things weren't that bad until I got a look at a rough cut of the first episode.

Apparently, the "character" of Chloe Winterhaven is a stuck up spoiled brat who only cares about two things: breaking hearts and buying designer shoes. Well, ok, maybe those are two things I care about, but they are certainly not the only things that make up who I am. Give me some credit, I am a lot deeper than the superficial shallow ditz they've portrayed me to be.

What has ended up on the cutting room floor thus far:

The _hours_ a week I spend with my Gram-Gram. Would Chloe Winterhaven on television have any time for her seventy year old step-grandmother? Doubtful. From the episodes that have aired so far, apparently, I spend all of my time well, see the above two things. And by the way, is Gram-Gram one of my all time favorite people? Totally!

I am actually a serious actress. Yes, sure, I know what you're thinking, but I actually know that Stanislavsky wrote the book on the craft and is not some new designer out of Croatia. Hello? Obviously everyone knows that's cKrakowski.

I am smart. Before you close the book and write me off as one of those girls who doesn't care about world events or whose definition of heavy reading is the latest copy of "In Style," don't. I have dreams. I have a vision. I want to go to a good school. No, I don't plan on going all Legally Blonde to get into an Ivy League school. Did you know that I am currently third in my class? I bet you didn't. Well, by the way, that's not something they just give out.

"Uhh…Chloe?"

My list of why I should walk off the set of Mulholland Creek is interrupted, and I spin around to see none other than Blade Mathers standing behind me. Please insert a vomiting sound here.

"Yes?" I ask in my patented bored voice.

"So, you were kidding today, right?"

I've long ago blocked out his deep and husky voice. While it seems to affect every other female under the age of eighteen within a two-mile radius, it has no affect on me whatsoever. Well, not one that he's going to see. I reply, "No, Blade, I wasn't kidding."

"You weren't acting?"

I roll my eyes. Sometimes this guy can be so dense I can't even fathom why I _ever _liked him. I say very slowly, as if I'm talking to my five-year-old sister, Madison (I know, annoying name, but my half sibling is a product of my mother's second marriage to Charlie – more on him later), "Blade, it's not going to happen, just give it up and save yourself some pride."

"Bitch."

Oh, how original he is. Fortunately, I have a little more class than Blade would even know what to do with. I walk over to my BMW Z8 (in silver, a sixteenth birthday present), jump in and politely give him a French-manicured one-finger salute.

Waving to the guard at our gated drive, I pull into our perfectly landscaped driveway. Ok, I'll brag, I LOVE where I live. Say what you will, but before it was cool to live in Mulholland Creek, I was having a wonderful childhood in the neighborhood of the rich and famous. Of course, my childhood fantasies where broken up around age seven when my parents went through an ugly divorce. Mom got the house. So, I've lived like Sleeping Beauty or something in a room that overlooks the majestic cliffs of the Pacific Ocean.

I walk inside, expecting to say hello to Esperanza, our Colombian housekeeper. Unlike Cher in one of my top three movies about Los Angeles culture, Clueless, I can and do actually communicate with our housekeeper. In fact, she's been teaching me Spanish. _Que bueno para mi!_

Esperanza is nowhere to be seen, but my step-dad, Charlie, is mumbling to himself in the breakfast room. Just kidding! He's never met a gadget he didn't like. The Bluetooth adapter in his ear initially took some getting used to, but since it's been a fairly permanent fixture since the technology was available, it no longer fazes me that he sounds like a crazy person most of the day. I poke my head in one of our two SubZeros (no Cristal here folks – we're all about the Dom at the Winterhaven household), pretending to look for something to eat, but really eavesdropping.

"—so, great. I'll have my lawyer send over the papers and we'll see you in a few weeks?"

I am intrigued. Charlie is a real estate agent. No, no, not one of those guys who has to put lame ads on park benches or anything. He pretty much is in that Los Angeles niche market where a "fixer upper" sells for somewhere to the tune of over five million. It's actually how he and my mom met. Times were getting tough for my Mom, a former Miss Kentucky, after the divorce and she was going to have to sell our house. She met Charlie Winterhaven and ended up getting to keep her house and a rich husband in the process. It's kind of a Cinderella story around here and she's a hero to many women.

Oh f, I've missed most of the conversation.

"You too, Keith."

As Charlie hangs up the phone, I peek back around the stainless steel door.

He seems to have noticed me, "How was shooting today?"

"Don't ask."

"That bad?" See, for a step-dad, Charlie's decent. He actually adopted me, and for that I'm eternally grateful. Before he came along, I was destined to be Chloe Moskowitz. Not exactly a name you would see on the marquee next to Ryan Gosling.

"Yup," I quickly change the subject, "So, brokering the next Brangelina love nest?"

"Not exactly," he looks at his Blackberry, which has been buzzing since I walked in, then over at me, "Do you have a minute?"

Let's see, what did I have going on today? I needed to study. Even though summer was only half over, I didn't want to let anyone get ahead of me. Then there was Cornelius's party, but I didn't think I needed to do anything more than make a quick appearance. The "scene" today with Blade hadn't really left me in any mood to see much of anyone.

"I've got a few minutes, " I respond vaguely, ever the normal teenager.

"Well, even though this is kind of a done deal, I think I should at least run it by you."

There's kind of an unspoken rule in the Winterhaven household between Charlie and I. I love my mom and everything, but she is more like an older sister than actual parent. I did get the best genetics of both parents – my dad is incredibly smart and my mom is incredibly pretty, so that was a win. Anyway, ever since about the age of twelve, most major family decisions were decided upon by me and Charlie.

"Go ahead."

"I'm starting a new business."

This is news. I mean, he's so good at real estate, there's not too much of a reason to really attempt anything else.

My delicate eyebrows arch and I ask, "What would that be?"

"Gourmet food," he grins broadly.

"I hate to inform you, but you don't know the first thing about food."

"I don't, but our future chef does."

"Excuse me?"

"His name is Keith and he's from Nowhereseville, Ohio, but damn if he doesn't make a good sauce."

I'm perplexed. Sometimes, when I think I've figured out adults, they go and do something totally random. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like Charlie has gone through any lame mid-life crisis or anything, but this kind of hints at one. What's next? Yoga classes? An even weirder career like a train conductor or something? I ask casually, "How is it that you, Charlie Winterhaven, have become acquainted with someone from Ohio? You think that anything outside of California is a foreign country."

Charlie ignores my insult and continues animatedly, "You remember Gary?"

I close my eyes and think. No, I do not remember Gary. Charlie has like a zillion clients and many of them have weird ways of making their fortunes. It's hard to keep up with who is a spa guru and who is an adult film star.

"No," I reach in my Fendi Spy Bag and pull out a nail file.

"Well, that's unimportant. Anyway, we met for lunch and he brings me this bottle of some local dressing he tried when he was home for a family reunion or something."

"And?" I inspect my pinky after filing it for a moment.

He jumps up, exclaiming, "If you have a taste, you'll understand why I'm so excited!"

To see uber-real estate agent Charlie Winterhaven like a kid at Chrismukkah makes it kind of difficult not to get excited too. I put down the nail file. He runs into our pantry and digs through until I hear an "Aha!"

He comes over with a jar and a spoon.

I cross my arms, "Am I suddenly the Gerber baby?"

But he's already opened the jar and is pointing the spoon in my direction. I take it and bring the spoon to my MAC coated lips. I swallow and a taste explosion goes off in my mouth. My eyes widen.

"And?"

"Yeah, this is awesome," then I come to my senses, and question, "So, a new chef?"

"Well, I was discussing the business plan with some of the investors and they think this is really the best way to do things. Keith and I will be partners, but while he gets things going, he needs a place to stay. I'm sick of doing the whole Zone to your door thing, and since Chef Jeff left, we've needed someone to fill the position."

"What's this Keith like?" Already I'm picturing some sort of culinary savant Orlando Bloom type French guy named Jean Luc who recently graduated Cordon Bleu. I wake up in the middle of the night and go downstairs for a midnight snack…there's freshly whipped cream involved…

"Oh, well, I've never met him, but he's married and has kids about your age."

The vaguely Parisian record that was playing in my head scratches abruptly. I ask, "What?"

"That's the best part. You're always talking about how you want to help those less fortunate in the world. I figure you can be tour guide and social director for Keith's son and daughter."

Wow, remember how I said that Charlie was a cool step-dad? Scratch all of that. He obviously has no recollection of what it is to be a rising high school junior. I have worked damn hard to get where I am and some nobody family from Ohio is not going to bring me down. I have big plans for my next two years at Mulholland High.

As a response to this preposterous idea I mutter, "Whatever."

With that, I leave the kitchen and walk out past the infinity pool, tennis courts and koi pond to our guesthouse. This is where my Gram-Gram (who is actually not related to me in any way) lives. A few years after Charlie and Mom got married, Gram-Gram (Charlie's mother) moved in and the two of us hit it off like Beluga caviar and a silver spoon.

Besides being a terrific person, Gram-Gram is a serious old school actress. She has all these great stories, amazing vintage clothes that she lets me borrow, and a Pug that she never lets out of her sight named Lisa. I know it's kind of weird to think of her as my best friend, but she's kind of the closest thing I have in that department. Don't get me wrong, I know a lot of cool people and hang out with the popular clique, but I'm honestly shy. I rarely let people see the real me. The Chloe Winterhaven on the show is an act.

"Chloe darling!"

Glimpsing Gram-Gram on the patio, I walk over and greet her with an air kiss, which coincides with Rule #7 in Marlene Winterhaven's Instructions for Finer Living: Perfect make up always. No exceptions.

"How was filming today?"

I open my mouth to explain (again) that Mulholland Creek definitely does not posses the budget to shoot on film, but love that's one of the things I love about her. She still calls the dailies, "rushes." So I find myself blurting out, "I turned down Blade."

"Really?"

I know that Gram-Gram expects big things out of me, and sometimes think the situations in my life are tests that I want to pass for her. I breathe a sigh of relief; the tone of her voice definitely suggests that I have done the right thing.

"I only wish I didn't have to see my reaction so soon."

That's one of the other things that sucks about the show. In the ever competitive world of reality television, our producers claim that they have the "quickest turnaround." The "scene" with Blade today will end up in American households in less than two weeks. I would much rather it was like a feature film…pre-production, shooting and then months later, after you can come to terms with what happened, it actually comes out. Instead, it's this horrible two week delay, where you are constantly waiting for everyone to catch up with what you are already past. I am SO glad that we are close to finishing the "season." Whenever the pitch for the show happened, the producers decided it would be more interesting to follow us around during the summer, rather than the boring life of the Mulholland Creek school year. If the rumors on set are true, I believe the school is holding out for a sweeter contract. I wouldn't be surprised at all if they had some Fall special based on the football team or something.

Gram-Gram sips her Cape Cod, and nods, understanding. She knows what it is to have your face on screen. Sensing my aggravation with the subject, she asks, "How is my Charlie?"

"Has he told you about his latest plans?"

"I'm his mother, darling, he hasn't kept me up to date since he turned fifteen."

"He didn't mention that we're getting a new chef?"

"We've been without one for too long."

Our last personal chef, Mike Edwards, was good enough, but when his band, 10 Stitches, was signed to Interscope, he tore up his contract and never looked back.

I decide to test the waters, "He has a family."

"That could be nice."

I roll my eyes. After living as an only child for a good eleven years, I did not look fondly upon Madison's arrival. Two more random people from Ohio are not going to be my best friends. They probably don't know the difference between Gucci and Prada. Apparently, there is no one who understands what I'm going through. I am huffing loud enough that Gram-Gram notices.

She puts her slightly wrinkled hand on mine, "When I was about your age, we moved to Hollywood."

I had heard this story a number of times. Gram-Gram was "discovered" when she had just turned eighteen and was attending a movie. Her father, some big shot in the aviation industry, moved the whole family from the proper East coast to the wilds of the West Coast.

She continues, "We moved into a very exclusive area of town. I didn't know anyone…even more intimidating was the fact that we lived next door to one of the heads of the studio. He had a daughter about my age and I had seen her in the magazines. She was so glamorous. I was sure we were going to be best friends. She took one look at my East Coast snobbery and didn't want anything to do with me. Do you know who that person is?"

I think through all the best actresses of the forties and fifties and can't come up with anyone. I shrug my shoulders, "No idea."

"Georgia Davis."

The unsinkable Georgia Davis is Gram-Gram's best friend. In fact, I'm surprised she isn't over visiting Gram-Gram this very moment. I knew they had been friends forever, and thought I had heard the story of how they first met, but this story was all news to me. Gram-Gram and Georgia are like this living version of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Secretly, I'm wondering where my Ya-Ya's are hiding.

She nods wisely, "So, don't write this girl from Ohio off just yet, maybe she'll change your life for the better."

I like my life just fine, thank you, but I don't say anything and Gram-Gram and I watch the sun set over the blue waters of the Pacific.

_**AN: How do you like things so far? Inquiring minds want to know.**_


	3. Impressions

**How lame am I that I'm excited the "line" feature is back?****  
**

**Anyway...yup, glad a few of you out there are digging this story. I was bragging to Susie about how great everyone was on this site and we're both excited about the reviews so far.**

**And hey, we own the characters and the concept!**

**Enjoy Chapter 3...I'll be around with Chloe sometime next week.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Ali  
**

I tried not to be offended by Steph's reaction.

"Oh my god! You are so lucky! Oh my god! Are you kidding me? Oh my god!" I had to hold the phone a few inches from my ear so she wouldn't bust my eardrum or something. Considering the fact I'd just told her that her best friend would be moving over a thousand miles away, I thought she could use a little reality check.

"Uh, Steph, did you happen to hear the part about me moving to the other side of the country? As in, we won't be in any classes together? As in, no drama club together? As in, I'll be at a totally different high school?" I paused to let it sink in. It was a drama club strategy, I admit. There was complete silence on the other end. There. Now I thought she had it.

"Uh, yeah, Ali. I did get that." Steph gave her exasperated sigh, "Did you happen to get the part about you moving to Mulholland Creek? As in, classes with Blade Mathers? As in drama club with Blade Mathers? As in Mulholland High, with, I think you might have it figured out by now, Blade Mathers!" Steph used the same trick I had. She paused to let it sink in. I have to admit, the trick kind of worked.

"I mean, you know I'll miss you Ali. Like, how could I not? You're my best friend. How am I going to survive sophomore year without you there to share it with me? But, because you're my best friend, I also can't help but be really excited for you when something completely amazing happens to you. And this – moving to Mulholland Creek – Ali, it really is amazing. I'll bet your drama club will be like a real movie studio or something. And even though she's a total snob, the fact that you'll be living with Chloe Winterhaven means you'll meet tons of people in the T.V. industry! Do you have any idea how much better a shot you'll have at really making it as an actress with connections like those?" She was almost pleading with me by now. It was getting pretty hard to focus only on the sucky part of things at this point.

"You do have a point," I conceded.

"Yeah, Ali, I think I actually have a few points." Steph said.

"You're like a triangle." I said.

Silence.

"You know, a few points? Three points?" I was ready to explain more, but Ali cut me off.

"Yeah, I get it, Ali. I get it that I'm even gonna miss your stupid jokes."

* * *

The next few days were crazy. Between a last minute goodbye party at the "Have-a-Bowl!" with Steph, Jen, Sarah and Jack, and packing up everything I owned, I barely had time to think about what life would be like in my new hometown. When moving day finally came, the girls stood in the driveway and waved as we left for the airport. 

"I'll miss you!" I yelled out the window as we pulled onto the street.

"Send us pictures of Blade!" They called back. When I settled back onto my seat, Steven let out a big sigh. It was the kind of sigh that could pretty much be translated directly into, "You are such a total lame-o." I gave him my best, "shut up, pimple factory" stare back.

"Kids, quit it!" My mom snapped. We hadn't even said anything to each other! I gave Steven my, "see what you did, dork" look and he rolled his eyes and looked away. Eventually, I got bored with staring at the side of his head and stared out my window instead.

Thankfully, we weren't driving all the way to California. We were only driving to the Cleveland Airport. Driving was my mom's original money-saving plan, but fortunately for all of us, Mr. Winterhaven insisted on flying us out so he could get to work with my dad more quickly. Thank goodness for that, because even after only 15 minutes in the car with the Harvists, I was more than ready to completely zone out with my music. It seemed like suddenly my life as I'd known it was flashing before my eyes, and, in all honesty, I felt a little more emotional than I had expected. At one point, I heard Steven sniffle and it kind of surprised me to think he might be feeling the same way. When I looked over at my parents, even my mom had her face buried in my dad's chest. Only my dad was trying to smile, but I wondered how he really felt, looking out the window and occasionally patting my mom's back with his hand. When he noticed me looking at him, he winked.

"Got your adventure hat on, Oop?" He asked. Steven was still ignoring us all and my mom's back shook again under Dad's arm as she let out a quiet sob against him. Jeesh. The Harvists were a wreck. I couldn't bear to let Dad know I was still a little on the fence myself about this move. The thought of him feeling like he'd disappointed us all was way more sad than me missing my sophomore year at stupid Hoover High. Someone was going to have to get it together for Dad, and from the looks and sounds of the rest of the family, it was pretty obvious it was going to have to be me.

"You bet, Dad," I said, and flashed him my widest smile. He let out a sigh and smiled back.

"Good, Ali. Cause we're off on one heck of an adventure."

* * *

We got to L.A. about five hours later. I guess being emotional makes you tired, because I zonked out so hard when we got on the plane that my mom had to shake me awake when it was time to deplane. When I was a little disoriented getting my stuff together and moved maybe a _bit_ too slowly, Steven gave me a shove from behind, where he was waiting for me to get out of the row in order for him to. I whirled around to look at him. 

"Hellooo! Mr. Rude! I'm moving as fast as I can!" As much as I wanted to only give him my meanest stare, my eyes were drawn to a big wet spot on his shoulder nearest me.

"What – did you spill your drink little baby?" I cooed at him. There, I thought, get him right back where it hurts.

"No," Steven growled at me, "That's your drool, sleeping cooty."

Oh. Oops. No wonder he was a little uptight. I turned away from him, mumbled a "Sorry about that," and hustled to get off the plane.

As we worked our way through the terminal to baggage claim, I couldn't help but think Los Angeles was nowhere near as glamorous as I'd expected it to be. For one, the airport really wasn't that much bigger than Cleveland's. Two, as stupid as it probably was, I'd sort of expected to see some celebrities in the airport. Instead, everyone looked pretty much the same as they had in the Cleveland airport. And thirdly, when I finally got a glimpse out of one of the terminal windows, I could hardly see anything beyond the nearby buildings and roads because of a gross brown cloud of smog. Hmm.

Near the baggage claim area, I ditched my parents and Steven as they waited for the bags to start coming out so I could go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit. That was when I realized, looking in the restroom mirror, that I had a major sleep wrinkle. Like, no joke, major. My entire left cheek, from the corner of my eye, down to the edge of my mouth was creased. I seriously looked like I had drawn it on myself with red marker.

"Oh my god," I said out loud. A woman two sinks over looked over at my reflection in the mirror and then quickly looked away. No doubt, she didn't want to look like she was staring at the freak with the HUGE sleep wrinkle. I wet paper towels and tried to scrub at the wrinkle, but all I succeeded in doing was creating a huge red spot all around the wrinkle. In fact, it looked even worse when I was done. After about ten minutes, I gave up. I pulled my hair forward on that side of my face and decided it didn't look all that noticeable if I tilted my head toward my shoulder.

When I came back out of the restroom, everyone was waiting with the bags.

"Hey Scarface," Steven said as he shoved my duffle towards me. So much for thinking no one would notice.

"You alright there Ali? My Dad asked, looking with concern at my wacked-out cheek. "You having an allergic reaction or something?'

"I'm fine, Dad." I said, trying to brush it off. Why is it that when you're trying to hide something, everyone notices?

When we finally dragged our bags outside, we spotted the driver Mr. Winterhaven had sent for us. He was tall with a dark suit, dark hair, dark glasses, and extremely bright teeth and white gloves. He was wearing a sign with "Harvist Family" printed in big block letters. He was standing in front of a long black limo. Now this was more like the L.A. I'd been picturing.

"Mr. Harvist?" He asked in a crisp British accent as my dad stepped up to him.

"The very one." My dad answered with a grin so wide it must have hurt. My dad beamed at us, no doubt certain we would now start to see the brighter side of our decision to move out here. I'll admit, I was sold. The driver introduced himself as James as he held the back door open for us. Was he serious? James? As in,"Follow that car, James"?

After James had loaded up the trunk with our bags and seated himself in the driver's seat, I literally had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, "Home, James" as we pulled away from the curb. My mom must've been thinking the same thing because she took one look at me and said, "Control yourself, Ali." How did she know what I was thinking all the time?

Seeing Los Angeles for the first time through the tinted back windows of a limousine is definitely the way to go – especially considering it's not all you'd expect it to be. The highway was packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic and I was grateful for the thick windows and surround-sound stereo pumping out classical music as people in cars around us gestured and yelled at each other. Off in the distance we saw the downtown skyscrapers, and James rolled down the window from the front seat and described what we were seeing...which was basically traffic or the Pacific Ocean. James explained that Mulholland Creek was far away from all the "Hollywood drama."

I don't know if it was the relaxing English monotone of James' voice, or if I really was more of an emotionally exhausted wreck than my fifteen-year-old body could handle, but the next thing I knew, I jerked awake when the limo made a sharp turn up a steep hill. My face was mashed against the tinted window and a big cloud of fog framed the exact place where my lips had been plastered against it.

"Hey Narco, glad to see you decided to join us," Steven smirked at me from across the seat. _Narco? _

"What are you talking about, dork? What did I narc on you about?" I snapped back. I was still trying to wake up and wasn't in the mood for any of Steven's weirdo comments.

Steven rolled his eyes, "A Narcoleptic is someone who falls asleep all the time. Who's the dork now?" Steven knows weird things like this. He's probably the only high school guy in the world who would call someone a "narco" and not be referring to an undercover cop or someone who would rat out his friends

"Kids," my mom growled from the other side of the car. She looked between us and her eyes stayed on me. She raised her eyebrows.

"Ali, hon, that rash on your cheek is getting worse." She leaned toward me. "Did you eat any avocado today?' Her hand brushed against my left cheek.

"Um, mom, between the Rice Krispies at home this morning, and the peanuts on the plane, uh, no, I don't think I ate any avocado." I know I was being rude, but really. Where's a girl supposed to suddenly come across eating the one food she's allergic to in a situation like ours today?

I leaned forward to check my reflection in the mirror on the back of the partition between James and us. When I saw what she was talking about, my eyeballs just about popped out of my head at the state of my face. My entire left cheek was not only red, but imprinted with a wide rectangle! I whipped my head back toward the window where I'd fallen asleep, and sure enough, a rectangular sticker declaring the limo "smoke free" was right in the spot where my cheek had been. _Are you kidding me? _After all the humiliation I'd had to endure with my sleep wrinkle earlier, now this?

The tinted window before me suddenly began lowering.

"We are now entering Mulholland Creek," James informed us. "We should be arriving at the Winterhaven estate momentarily."

_Great,_ I thought. I look like some kind of freak. _Hi Chloe, _I pictured myself saying, _I'm your cool new roomie!_ She would probably just roll her eyes at me and walk away like she did to Blade anyway, so why did it matter, I thought.

Despite the gloomy arrival I knew lay before me, I couldn't help but take notice of the town beyond the windows. There, right past our limo, was the very coffee shop, I was certain, where Blade Mathers had miraculously saved an elderly woman's life by performing the Heimlich maneuver when she choked on a biscotti! And there, beyond that, was the wooden-plank stairway leading down to Mulholland Beach! Blade could be down there right now, wearing only his swim trunks and demonstrating his ultimate hotness on a surfboard! It took all my self-control not to insist we stop right there so I could see for myself.

As we wound out of town on the cobblestone streets, whitewashed stonewalls covered in green vines and bright pink flowers lined both sides of the road. Occasionally we passed breaks in the wall, where towering metal gates marked the entrances of mansions so huge I couldn't even see the edges of them before we passed. Palm trees and gigantic oak branches arched out over the road from behind the walls and created a shadowy roof over the street.

At the top of the hill, James slowed and stopped in front of the tallest gates I'd seen yet. In the middle of the closed gate through the windshield, an ornate mosaic spelled out "Winterhaven" in blue, yellow and white tiles. After James rolled down the window and entered a code into the keypad post beside us, "Winter" and "haven" slowly spread apart before us.

"Wow," Steven and I said together when we saw the house. A manicured, rolling green lawn led to a sprawling adobe mansion that looked like some sort of colonial Spanish palace or something. It had to be, like, ten times the size of our house back in Middleton. James pulled the limo under a covered drive, where a huge bronze statue of a naked woman poured water into an actual pond that continued into the house under a tall narrow glass window beside the front door,

"It's like we're pulling up to the lobby of a fancy hotel," my mom whispered. My dad squeezed her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.

"We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he said.

When we stepped out of the limo, even the air smelled expensive. I could smell flowers from the huge garden beyond the driveway, and there was another slightly familiar salty smell. It kind of reminded me of our last family vacation to Florida…what was it? Listening to the water trickling from the fountain next to us, I started to feel like we'd just pulled up to a resort, too. Not that I'd ever been to a resort, but if I had, I figured it probably would've been a lot like the Winterhaven estate.

Steven, meanwhile, had wandered off across the lawn and was looking back at something behind the house. He turned back to me and waved.

"Check it out, Ali!" He motioned for me to join him. When I finally reached him (it seriously took a while – like I said, the house was, like, ten times the size of our old one), I suddenly realized what the familiar salty smell had been.

"The Pacific Ocean," Steven said, "How about that?"

The entire backside of the Winterhaven mansion looked out over a huge cliff and down to the choppy blue waves of the ocean below. Off in the distance, a huge ship inched across the horizon. A seagull cawed overhead.

"Wow," I said again. Apparently, this place made me lose my ability to say anything other than that word.

Beside us, steps led up to an open deck that spanned the length of the house. A wooden trellis covered in flowering vines and wrapped in strings of white lights created a shade cover between the windows that made up the back wall of the house and the edge of the deck. I couldn't help but be blown away by how gorgeous it all was. I cupped my hand over my eyes and tried to see into the dark shade under the trellis.

That was when I heard an unmistakable sound.

"Uh, excuse me?" An entirely recognizable valley-girl-ish voice demanded from somewhere back in the darkness. There was no doubt in my mind – it was the ultra-bitchy voice of none other than the ultra-bitch herself – Chloe Winterhaven. I stepped back in shock. Why I was shocked, I don't know. I mean, obviously we were going to be meeting her at some point, I just hadn't been ready for it just yet.

Steven, on the other hand, having never even watched _Mulholland Creek_ and clearly ignorant to the fact that he was talking to one of the snottiest girls to walk the face of the earth, stepped forward and cupped his hand over his eyes as well.

"Oh, we're sorry," he said. "We didn't know anyone was back here. I'm Steven Harvist and this is my sister, Ali. We just got here – our dad's the new chef for the Winterhavens." He held his hand out in an attempt to shake the hand belonging to the voice. I almost gasped out loud. Steven was acting like she was normal or something. I braced myself for whatever rude response she was about to make.

From somewhere back in the darkness I heard a chair scrape back and the same voice saying in a tone I'd never heard, "I'll be right back, Gram-Gram." Then, the sharp tapping of heels on an Italian tile floor got progressively louder as she approached. All at once she emerged from the darkness, her famous blond hair flowing behind her as she shook it back from her face and neck. Her blue-gray eyes were even more striking in person, especially as they bore down on my brother. She parted her perfectly glossed lips and her stunningly white teeth glinted from between them. I readied myself for her wrath. She stepped out of the darkness and into the light on the stairs. I flinched as she came closer, _get ready, Steven,_ I thought, _you are about to be totally put-down. _Despite our less than friendly interactions today, a wave of pity rushed over me, Poor Steven and his acne-ridden, unwitting smile. He was about to be crushed. I saw the way his eyes lit up as she came closer. How could he help it, I reasoned, she _was_ pretty. But oh, what an ugly person she was. I wanted to stop her before she said anything to crush his already obvious admiration of her beauty, but even I was frozen in fear.

Chloe, who still hadn't even acknowledged my presence, stopped right in front of Steven and did a once-over of his ratty Chuck Taylors, tattered jeans, "Vote for Pedro" t-shirt, coke-bottle thick glasses resting on a pimple-encrusted nose, and still outstretched hand. _Run Steven, while you still can,_ I almost yelled. She flipped her hair back again, the famous highlights shimmering in the bright sun.

"It's nice to meet you, Steven," she said, reaching out and shaking his hand. She flashed her famous smile and looked straight into his eyes. "I'm Chloe Winterhaven. Welcome to Mulholland Creek." She was actually being nice! I let out a huge breath, only realizing at that moment I'd been holding it since she had first spoken. Chloe looked over at me then, seeming to realize suddenly that I was even there. I managed a weak smile. Her smile seemed to disappear.

"Uh, um, uh, hi." I stammered. I awkwardly held my hand out to hers, which was still in Steven's. She looked from my hand to hers, slowly pulled hers out of Steven's with one last, broad smile at him, and hesitantly offered her hand to me. _Oh my god, I'm touching Chloe Winterhaven!_ Despite myself, I was starstruck. My heart jumped and I let out a nervous giggle.

"I'm a big fan of the show," I blurted out, "my friends and I have seen every single episode!" I started pumping her hand up and down in a hearty handshake. "I mean, I almost feel like I know you already!" I couldn't seem to control myself. What was I saying? Why was I shaking her hand so hard?

Chloe's facial expression changed abruptly, from polite to annoyed. She looked down at my hand squeezing hers impatiently. I loosened my grip and she pulled her hand away.

"Uh, that's…nice." She said. Steven looked at me like I'd suddenly grown a second head or something. Chloe's eyes fixed on my left cheek. Oh yeah, I remembered, the big red rectangle. My hand flew up so fast to cover the spot I accidentally slapped myself. Chloe raised her eyebrows and stepped back. I felt every ounce of my pride screaming out in embarrassment. I knew my smile at this point was more of a grimace than anything else. I kept my hand on my cheek and tried to pretend I was scratching a mosquito bite or something. I swear, from the way Chloe and Steve were both looking at me by this point, I was starting to wonder if I actually did have another head.

"Well, uh, Ali," Chloe said through a completely fake-looking smile, "Welcome to Mulholland Creek."

* * *

_**Please review!**_  



	4. Every New Beginning Comes from

_AN: It's been a quick trip, but Susie and I are glad you joined us for this little writing experiment. Wish us luck as we try and get an agent to get Ali and Chloe to the masses!_

_We do own the characters._

* * *

**Chapter 23: Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's End**

Ben and I went to the cast party in his Land Cruiser, with Leo and Steph talking together in the back seat. Everyone was still buzzing over Mr. Rosenblum's offer when we pulled up to the restaurant Mendi's dad had rented out for the occasion.

"I just can't believe you're actually going to be a regular on the show!" Steph was practically bouncing up and down as we handed our coats to the woman at coat check. She grabbed my hands in hers and squeezed them excitedly, "I mean, really, Ali! Can you believe you were actually fantasizing about this in my living room only two months ago? Now look where we are!"

She looked out at the restaurant and my eyes followed hers. It was definitely a far more chic place than anything we'd ever seen in Middleton. The entire place was paneled with pale wood, and there were actual trees growing up from under the floor and through holes in the glass roof, where their branches only partially blocked the view of the starry sky above. A stream of water trickled over black stones lining the far wall, and long black drapes were pulled back dramatically from the far windows to reveal the moonlit Pacific Ocean beyond. People stood wall-to-wall, dressed in the kinds of expensive clothing we used to only see in magazines (and wonder who could afford!) and interspersed among them were cameramen from _Mullholland Creek _with their lights shining and their cameras rolling.

Even Steph looked different tonight; Chloe and Pepper had given her a makeover with even more energy than I could remember them putting into mine. From head to toe, she'd been transformed from Middleton urban rebel to high-class haute couture chic. They'd actually convinced her to dye her hair back to a solid black, with the trade off being full access to a completely Gwen Stefani-ish punk wardrobe. She'd replaced her former death warmed over look with pale powder and dramatically dark eye makeup and cherry red lipstick, and the results were phenomenal. Even the ever-mellow Leo perked up considerably when he first saw her.

"So, are you ready?" Steph asked, turning back from the restaurant and smiling at me expectantly.

"For what?"

"For your first night out in Hollywood as a _Mulholland Creek_ regular?" Even as she said it, a cameraman a few feet away from us seemed to notice my presence and rush toward me, the bright light from his camera making me squint. As he did it, three photographers who had been mingling nearby also crowded around me.

"Ali Harvist!" They yelled. I couldn't help but start giggling. _Was this really happening to me? _They all started shouting questions at once:

"Miss Harvist, how do you feel about being called a country bumpkin on national television?"

"What's it like living with your biggest rival?"

"How does Mulholland High compare with your old high school in Ohio?"

"Are the rumors true that your old school was a one-room schoolhouse?"

_One-room schoolhouse? Did they think I was Laura Ingalls Wilder or something? _As much as I wanted to set the record straight about Hoover High, my fingers went to the copy of the folded contract Len had given me earlier which I'd shoved into my purse. _What had he said to do about the press? Oh yeah._

"Thanks, but I'll have to say no comment for now." I took Steph's hand and looked behind me for Ben, who seemed to have disappeared since we came inside.

"Let's find the ladies room." I whispered to Steph.

Five no comments and six paparazzi-like pictures later, we finally made it safely into the restroom.

"Oh my God, Ali! This is crazy!" Steph locked the door behind us and leaned back against it to catch her breath. "And how cool were you with your whole 'no comment' thing! Where'd you come up with that?"

"Actually, it was the one thing Len told me that I could remember out there. He said I needed to read this," I pulled out the crumpled contract for her to see, "Before I made any comments to the press or posed for any pictures. I guess now would be the time to look it over, seeing as how there are a zillion photographers and press people out there."

"Um, Ali…is that a signed contract?" Steph's jaw had dropped open and she stared at me like I had a third arm sprouting out of my forehead.

"Well, yeah," I frowned at her, trying to figure out what had her so concerned, "I told you he wanted to sign me on as a regular."

"Yeah, you said he 'wanted to' sign you on," Steph yanked the paper out of my hand and smoothed it against the black marble countertop by the sink, "You didn't say you actually _signed_ anything!"

"What's the difference?" I asked, a little frustrated she was taking the fun out of my first night out as a regular.

"What's the difference? Are you serious?" Steph looked up from my black scrawl across the bottom of the page. "Really, Ali, I've been here, what, three days? And in just those three days I've heard Chloe say about a hundred times how much she needed a new agent after her last one did such a terrible job with her contract for _Mulholland Creek_! And here you are, with a signed contract for the same show that you haven't even read?!?"

As much as I was irritated with how serious she had become, I couldn't help but realize everything she said was true. How could I have been so stupid? I felt my eyes well up with tears immediately, and I dabbed at them with a tissue so I wouldn't mess up my eye makeup.

Just then someone knocked loudly on the restroom door.

"Can you guys hurry up?" A girls voice pleaded from the other side. Steph looked from the contract, to me, to the door, then back to me again.

"Oh, hey, I didn't mean to make you cry." She transformed her scowl to a gentle smile and shook her head at the contract. "I'm sure everything's fine. I mean, really, what could be bad about it?" She forced a wider smile and even I had to laugh at it. "Right?"

"Yeah, right." I forced a smile even wider than hers and we both cracked up. The girl outside pounded on the door.

"We should go." I said.

"What are you going to do?" Steph asked.

"I'll talk to Chloe about it later," I shoved the contract back in my purse and tried to put it out of my mind, "In the meantime, I'm going to find Ben. I think we might need to spend a little more time practicing the end of the dance scene before tomorrow night." Steph laughed and linked arms with me.

I found Ben ten minutes later. Steph had gone off with Leo, who couldn't seem to take his eyes off her tonight, and Ben stood by himself, looking out the windows at the water below. He looked even cuter than normal; his black outfit looked silvery in the reflected moonlight, and his profile reminded me of the night he'd sat with me on the curb by the Quick-E Mart. How did I spend so much time with him without realizing how cute he is? Especially since it was all I thought about every time I saw him now?

"Hey Ben," I said as I walked over to stand next to him.

"Hey there," He smiled. I felt myself blushing, just because he was looking at me. "I saw you trying to escape the paparazzi," he laughed, "Welcome to your new life, huh?"

"I guess so," I looked behind us at the crowded room and didn't see any photographers nearby, but a few people back I could see the bright glow of a camera's spotlight. Ben saw where my eyes went.

"I know a place we could go," he whispered. "It's got a great view, and no cameras are allowed." He winked.

"Sounds great." I took the arm he offered me and followed him as he ducked behind one of the heavy drapes next to the windows.

"Uh, Ben, this hiding-behind-the-curtains trick doesn't even work for my cat."

"Trust me." A moment later, a cold wind blew against us. We stood outside on a metal fire escape that spanned the side of the restaurant. Ben leaned over and pulled something from beneath a fire extinguisher post. He stood back up and held out my coat.

"How did you…" My voice trailed off as Ben leaned toward me.

"I had a feeling." He slipped the coat over my arms and I buttoned it as he zipped up his own jacket, "And you should know, it wasn't exactly easy getting this from the coat check lady. I kind of had to promise her you'd give her a few autographs for her little sister."

"Really? That worked?" My stomach started fluttering as I realized it was the first time I'd been alone with Ben since we kissed. He moved closer to me to keep me warm.

"Well, sort of. A few dollars exchanged hands, too," He lifted his hand to my cheek and brushed some hairs behind my ear. I noticed his eyes suddenly looking at something behind me.

"Hey, look over there," he whispered, turning me back toward the restaurant. From where we stood, we could see in one of the side windows. Practically the entire room was visible from there.

"Look at that!" Ben let out a long, low whistle and pointed to the back corner of the restaurant.

"What do you see?" I strained to see where he was pointing. I lifted up on my toes so I could make out the two figures huddled together on a bench by the coat check. Just as they pulled apart, I realized one of them was Steph.

"Looks to me like Steph and Leo have hit it off pretty well." He laughed as I realized in shock that the two of them were making out. How did Steph move so fast? And who knew Leo even _could_ move fast?

"I guess so, huh?" My eyes moved across the rest of the crowd, to where I could see my parents standing with Mr. and Mrs. Winterhaven and Gram-Gram. They were laughing and clinking their champagne glasses together. Mr. Winterhaven patted my dad heartily on the back and my mom seemed to beam with pride. I had a feeling they were talking about something other than the performance tonight. Maybe something was happening with the sauce business? Just then, Steven and Chloe, both with flushed and slightly guilty looks on their faces, emerged from around the corner. Mr. Winterhaven said something and Chloe immediately began clapping her hands excitedly. Steven gave my parents a huge bear hug and my mom picked up a bottle of sparkling cider from the table behind her and poured them both glasses.

"What, did Chloe and Steven get engaged or something?" Ben laughed into my ear. I backed up against him and hugged his arms where they wrapped around my stomach.

"Actually, I get the feeling my dad's going to have some good news about his business when I go inside."

"That doesn't mean you're in any rush to go back inside, does it?" He asked, letting his lips linger on my ear as he said it. I turned in his arms so our faces were only inches apart. I couldn't help but notice his product-styled hair was beginning to lose its battle with his naturally wild curls. Here and there, loose strands waved around his head in the wind. I giggled.

"What are you laughing at?"

I tried to wipe the smile off my face. "I'm sorry. Nothing. I mean, I just like how you did your hair tonight." I reached up and patted down one of the waving strands, letting my hand slide down so I could rest it on the back of his neck.

"Oh you do, huh?" He smirked. "That friend of Chloe's – what's his name? JaMarcus? He made me take a bottle of this gel stuff when he saw me coming to hang out with you while you were babysitting. I don't know, he said something about taming my 'goldy-locks.' I think he tried to pinch my butt, too."

We both started laughing.

"I can see that." I said.

"You can?" Ben asked, leaning forward to lightly kiss my cheek near my ear, "The goldy-locks part, or the pinching my butt part?"

He kissed my cheek softly again, closer to my lips. My stomach gurgled loudly. Ben stopped kissing me for a moment and moved his face back to lock eyes with mine.

"Now that reminds me." He looked suddenly serious. _Oh my God, please don't let my stomach be the end of this!_

"What?" I asked, my voice just as serious as his. _Please, please, please. No more growling._

_Glurp._ My eyebrows shot up. I didn't even feel my stomach do that! Ben's eyebrows shot up, too.

"You're telling me," He said. "Look what you've done to me." His stomach gurgled loudly again. I couldn't help but start giggling.

"Hey there, Yahtzee champ! Easy on the laughs! I'm a sensitive guy!" We were both giggling now, and we leaned our faces together as we did it. We started kissing between laughs. Ben moved back suddenly.

"Uh-oh. Looks like we're about to have company." He frowned. I turned to see where he was looking and saw Leesa headed toward the door we'd just come out of with a serious look on her face. Before we even had a chance to move apart, Leesa swung open the door and peered around toward us.

"Ali!" She practically barked. I jumped. "Your family is looking for you." Leesa's eyes stopped on Ben's arms where they wrapped around me, and her lips turned down. "Not to mention, Ali, don't you think you have a bit more responsibility to mingle? You know, now that you're a _regular_ and everything?" She said the word "regular" like it was some sort of punishment. Ben slowly unwrapped his arms from me and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, thanks, Leesa." I stammered.

"Yeah, thanks, Leesa." Ben said in a mockingly grateful tone. "So kind of you to hunt us down out here." He turned to me, "After you," and waved toward the door. We squeezed past Leesa, and Ben helped me slide out of my coat.

"I'll drop these back off at coat check and meet you by your parents," He said, before bending down to kiss me on the cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leesa's cheeks turn bright red. We both watched him as he walked away.

"Hmm." Leesa snorted. "You might want to be careful, there, Ali." She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at me. "You know, getting so invested in someone who isn't on the show and all." I pushed my eyebrows together. What was that supposed to mean? She went on, "That is, unless you worked it out in your contract that you can do that. Which, I'm sure, being as _experienced_ as you are, you _must_ have done."

She stood up straighter, brushed back her hair and put her hands on her hips, "Anyway, see you around, Ali."

She turned and strode away, and I could hear her laughing to herself as she did. I tried not to let what she said bother me. No doubt, it was just her way of trying to get back at me because Ben wasn't interested in her. Instead, I looked over toward where my family was gathered and caught my mom's eye. She waved and motioned for me to join them.

As I came through the crowd to where I could see everyone, Ben appeared next to me and slipped his hand into mine. My mom raised her eyebrows and winked at me. _He's cute! _She mouthed. I glanced over at Ben, hoping he hadn't caught that. He beamed down at me and whispered, "Tell her I said," and he mouthed the words _thank you. _ I could feel my cheeks burning. He squeezed me and laughed.

"Ali-oop!" My dad practically shouted when he noticed me there. It took all my effort not to check what Ben's reaction was to that. "I'm so glad you could join us! We've got some terrific news!"

He grinned widely, taking a moment to look at everyone in our circle. Mom handed Ben and me glasses of sparkling cider, and motioned to Steph and Leo with two more glasses as they came up for air on the nearby bench. Leo coughed awkwardly into his fist and cleared his throat. Steph smoothed her hands over her hair and skirt, and caught my eyes as I watched her. She smiled broadly when she stepped up to my side.

"I think I could get used to living here," she whispered. We both giggled. "Me too." I said, nodding toward Ben.

"So, now that we have everyone gathered, it's time to make the official announcement," My dad said.

"We can't wait!" Gram-Gram chipped in. Steven draped his arm over Chloe's shoulder beside Gram-Gram and squeezed her to him, and Chloe and I caught each other's eyes across the circle. We'd come so far together these past couple of months, and I couldn't help but realize at that moment how lucky I was to have met her. Chloe, it seemed, was feeling the same way. Her eyes twinkled as she looked between Ben and me, and I could pretty much feel my own eyes twinkling back between her and Steven.

"Go ahead, Keith," Mr. Winterhaven prodded. He and Mrs. Winterhaven seemed about to burst with pride.

"Alright then," Dad pulled mom closer, "Thanks to Charlie's business finesse, beginning next month, _Great Harvist Sauces_ will become _the_ official dressings and sauces of Olive Branch restaurants nationwide!"

I could hardly believe the news! Olive Branch was one of the largest successful chains of Italian restaurants in the country!

"Dad, are you serious?" Steven said excitedly. "That's great!"

"Yep, totally serious." Dad said, "And it's time for a toast."

He lifted his glass to the center of the circle, and we all lifted ours to his, "I'd like to recognize what an incredibly fortunate couple of families we are," he began, taking a moment to let his eyes lock with each of ours as he looked around the group of us, "Just a couple of months ago, this was all just a dream. But, thanks to a whole lot of lucky coincidence, and then, to a whole lot of hard work, it has become so much more. Not only have we launched a new business, but we've also found a new home. We've also, fortunately," he paused and nodded to Mr. Winterhaven, "made some really great friends." Ben squeezed my hand.

"I'd like this toast to be in honor of that. To friends – new and old." He clinked our glasses with his.

"To friends!" We all chimed in. When I swallowed my first sip of sparkling cider, I started coughing suddenly. Steph patted my back.

"Leo and I kind of swapped labels with another champagne and the cider bottle earlier," Steph confessed. "You know, just in honor of the big night and all."

She winked conspiratorially at Ben and me. Ben laughed and I took another sip of the champagne.

"Hey, go easy on that." Ben said.

"Oh yeah, why?" I asked.

"Well, you know what they say about bubbly drinks," His lips started to turn up in a smile.

"No, I don't" I said. "What's that?'

"Well, you know, the bubbles." He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"If you're not careful, they'll make you Yahtzee," I practically spit out the champagne in my mouth.

"Ben!"

"Well, hey, I'm just saying," He motioned to the crowd around us, "There will be a lot more eyes on you now that you're famous and everything."

"Yes," I put my hand on my hip and waited to see where this was going. "And?"

"Well, you know," he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, "I just, well…" He spoke the rest of his sentence into my neck, "I want your Yahtzees to be me for my ears only."

I burst into giggles and swatted at him. "Ben!"

"Ali!" he mocked. He pulled his face away from my neck and touched his nose gently to mine. Somewhere to the side of us I heard the shutter of a camera and a quick burst of light reflected in his eyes. I hardly noticed. I felt, at that moment, like everything I could ever want, I had right then.

And, it seemed, things would only get better.

* * *

_AN: Click ahead to see thank you's and answer a few questions! _


	5. AN and Thank you's!

Hey gang,

The funny thing is, that of all the projects I have, I really think that this story has the best chance of "making it." So, wish Susie and I luck as we begin the editing process and start to find an agent worthy of Ali and Chloe! You can help us by answering a few questions about the story. It really means a lot to both of us that you would take the time to do this and we take what you say seriously. 

1. Who is your favorite character?

2. Do you have a favorite scene/line of dialogue or memorable moment from the story?

3. Does anything that need work particularly?

So now, in traditional dutchesscourtney style…thank yous!

_Raindropskeepfallingonmyhead _– So, thank you for consistently weighing in on our little story and suffering along with our little Ali. You can blame Susie for all those embarrassing situations – she certainly has a way with words. And, you know what they say…all fiction is at least a little bit autobiographical! (Maybe you were really suffering along with Susie!)

_Percussion Chick_ – thank you too for responding so often and with such enthusiasm! And ditto on falling in love with Ben. He's pretty much awesome… And ditto what we said to Raindrops, thanks for suffering along with Ali!

_clarinetbandgeek07_ – thanks for the reviews! we love them and hope you will review us again soon.

_Nique_ – thanks for letting us know how we're doing! Susie appreciates having a fan among her coworkers, and really thinks you ought to consider naming your baby Little Ali.

_Somewei _– even with all your fifty things going on it means a lot that you took a few minutes to review…and Susie and I both thought it was a huge compliment that you said our writing styles complemented each other. It meant a lot! Now we can only hope some agents and editors out there agree!

_Lizai _– hey thanks for taking some time out of your crazy life to leave us some love! We hope your life has calmed down a little during this time of the year.

_Brokos/The Pterodactyl_ – it took you until Chapter 8 to review! Shame on you…just kidding! Thanks for making the leap over to a non-marching band story with us. We think things turned out ok. And extra points for getting really REALLY mad at Blade.

_abcsnowfall_ – it's such a compliment that our story would drag you in and keep you wanting more! We're glad you liked it.

_daphnebandweenie_ – I'm sorry you fell down the stairs in front of your crush…with an instrument, I hope things turned out ok!! You never know, maybe someday Ali will fall down the stairs in front of a crush…

_riflefriedrice_ - I'll look up the song soon! I always love reader reccomendations.

All the best,

Courtney and Susie


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